


The Floor Is Lava

by Bluethenstaub



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-18 11:21:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18119798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluethenstaub/pseuds/Bluethenstaub
Summary: Crowley plays a game while Aziraphale tries to work.





	The Floor Is Lava

“Get down there, dear,” Aziraphale said mindlessly. In the corner of his eye, he had just spotted Crowley, sitting on some of his books, trying to balance himself out. It’s a pretty high pile, Aziraphale had to admit, but they have to go into a certain shelf and this bookshelf is currently completely filled. He could move some of the books of that shelf to another place, he could maybe even take the globe away and put it somewhere else, but such things need time and a certain motivation, and Aziraphale had neither of it.

“Yes,” Crowley sais without even trying to leave the book pile. Instead, he tried to climb completely onto it.

Aziraphale glared over to him. “At least take your shoes off.” 

Obediently, Crowley took his shoes off. Standing on one foot, he came close to falling down and to make the pile fall with him. But he managed, and Aziraphale didn’t have to save the demon from under a bunch of books. The poor books…

“What are you doing up there anyway?”

“Mischief.”

“What, Crowley?”

“I’m bored.”

“I’m not keeping you here, you’re free to go.”

“I wouldn’t have to be up here if someone wouldn’t prioritize doing his taxes over spending time with a friend.”

Aziraphale’s eyes flickered over from the greenish lines on the screen to Crowley. “You’re not my friend, you’re my enemy.”

“I’m the closest thing you have to an actual friend who isn’t a human.”

Fair enough, Aziraphale admitted quietly and focused back on the screen. “That doesn’t explain what exactly you’re doing on the books.”

“It’s a game I’ve heard about. It’s called ‘The floor is lava’. You play it by-”

“But the floor isn’t lava, it’s wood,” Aziraphale started to lecture Crowley.

“Aziraphale-”

“And some carpets and other things. But even if it was, there’s no point of you being on my books. They’d just burn down faster than you’re able to react. Which I don’t even want to think about! And then you’d be in the lava, which has no consequences for you since you’re a demon.”

“You just imagine that the floor is lava,” Crowley corrected as he climbed over to another pile. He was close enough to a shelf now, so he put his shoes into it. “You have to get from one end of the room to the other.”

“That’s a silly game.”

“It’s a children’s game.”

“You are no child.”

“That doesn’t matter to me.“Crowley climbed onto the table.

“Obviously. What’s the goal of the game?”

“Not to die in the lava.”

“You could just stay on the table forever.”

“But that’s boring, you have to keep moving.”

“You should play sometimes else. How about that game where you eat things. I’d like to see you try eating a whole orange again.”

Crowley laughed. “Really?”

“Really.”

Crowley had tried taking ridiculously big objects into his mouth when he was drunk more than once. He had started with small things, sometimes raisins, sometimes olives, and moved over to bigger things. He had managed the orange, peeled, without problems, but it had been in a different body then. Now he was smaller and his face slimmer, and he probably wasn’t able to open his mouth that much.

But he was a snake, so who knew?

“I’ll think about it,” Crowley grinned as he walked over the table. He walked directly under the ceiling light, and yet he didn’t hit his head.

“Put the first book away please, if you use the left pile,” Aziraphale mentioned offhand.

Of course, Crowley listened and put the book on the table before he walked - or rather jumped - over several piles and a little coffee table, only to land on Aziraphale’s desk.

Aziraphale frowned. “Crowley, please-”

But Crowley already got down on his knees, only to put a hand on Aziraphale’s chin, and to pull him into a soft kiss.

“You’re right,” he smiles. “We’re not friends. And I just won my game, the lava is gone.”


End file.
